


Lullaby

by SwellDame



Category: Crimson Peak - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath, F/M, Ghosts, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Post-Movie(s), Pregnancy, Request Meme, Reunions, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwellDame/pseuds/SwellDame
Summary: A request fulfilled on Tumblr: After returning to America, Edith is pregnant and hears the sound of a piano.





	

“Edith…” Someone was calling her name. Their voice was warm and distant, as though they were calling out from some abyss. Or was it from a place of salvation?

She didn’t have much time to consider which because what was much closer to her than the voice, was also something much more frightening. A few strokes of the piano’s keys and Edith’s mind was submerged into images of blood-drenched snow and white lace; knives and cleavers; Lucille; Thomas; _Baby_ … _baby_ …

“Edith, are you all right?” The warm voice shook her from the violent thoughts which plagued her.

Immediately, she assessed where she was - in the Garden Cafe, in Buffalo, with Alan, who was sitting across from her. His face was etched with concern. It was only then that she felt a warm weight on her hand and looked down to see Alan’s hand clasped over her own.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She breathed and withdrew her hand. She took a sip of her nettle tea and exhaled.

Edith’s heart beat wildly in her chest and despite trying to take deep breaths in order to calm herself, she couldn’t seem to do so. Her brown eyes flitted to the piano in the corner and for a moment she swore she saw Lucille’s figure sitting at the piano, wearing the red dress she wore to Eunice’s party the night she waltzed with Thomas. But when she blinked hard, the figure was gone and replaced by a black coat-tailed man with dark hair. Her breath hitched in her throat and Edith’s hands began to shake in her lap.

“Edith, would you like me to escort you home?” Alan asked softly.

“No,” She waved away his request and took another sip of tea. “I do think I will return home now though.”

“I’ll take you,” Alan offered. He already began to stand up from his chair but Edith stopped him.

“No, Alan please.” She politely pleaded as she stood up from the table.

“But - ”

“I will be fine.” She interrupted. Alan made a reluctant nod of his head.

“I’ll call on you later?”

“I would like that very much.” She made a small smile and promptly made her exit. She was careful not to give any more attention to that piano in the corner.

Once she was outside on the bustling sidewalk, Edith felt herself breath easier. Despite the passersby pushing and bumping into her, she welcomed the jarring physical contact. It brought her back to the present.

“She wasn’t there.” She whispered to herself for reassurance. The phrase was a tonic to her trembling nerves. She repeated it again.

“She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.”

It became a mantra Edith repeated in her head as her footsteps led her in the direction of her home. The more distance she put between her and the cafe, the better. Soon the mantra became hypnotic. She began to concentrate on the rhythm of the syllables and drew them out into sounds, pulled them apart until they were no longer words but beats that she could feel in her bones.

Then a shrill scream disrupted her concentration and Edith felt a force pull her back from the curb of the street. A horse-drawn carriage whipped past her, the speed of the great beast almost taking it with her.

Startled and embarrassed, Edith searched around her for the kind stranger who pulled her back to safety but no one had stopped except for a young lady who must have been the who screamed. She was still trying to catch her breath, still wide-eyed from the horror that was just averted.

“Are you hurt, Miss?” The woman asked.

Edith shook her head. She was too dumbfounded to speak. The hairs on her wrist stood on end.

“Did you see who it was who saved me?” She scanned the crowd as the lady shook her head.

“There was no one, Miss. It was the strangest thing to witness. I thought maybe my scream caught you off guard in order to pull you back,” The young lady shook her head, “But it was something else.”

 _Something else._ Edith thought to herself.

“Thank you.” She turned away and crossed the street before the lady had a chance to say anything more.

When her home was in sight, Edith’s walk quickened. When Thomas burnt the final papers before he was killed, it meant that she got to keep her father’s house and manage it herself.

Once inside, Edith locked the door and leaned her head against the cool oak frame. She slowly turned around and stood in the empty foyer.

“If you are here, give me a signal.” She whispered.

The floorboards creaked from somewhere in the parlor, as if someone was moving across the room.

“You know I can do much more than that.” A shimmering white and gold figure materialized at the foot of the staircase, “And you know you don’t have to be so formal with me, my love.” He quipped.

Edith could just make out Thomas’ dark hair and suit. The fatal wounds Lucille on his chest were no longer there. The mark on his face left behind by the sister’s knife was healing nicely too, even though his skin was nearly translucent.

She found she could breath easier now, yet she made no attempt to move away from the door.

“I saw her.” She announced.

“Lucille?”

Edith nodded.

“It can’t be. She’s trapped - ”

“I know.”

A period of silence grew between them until she spoke again.

“I thought I saw you.” Her voice trembled, on the edge of weeping. “In the flesh…I mean…I thought I saw…”

“Oh Edith.” Thomas glided towards her as his hand reached out to cup her cheek. A silent tear spilled down her face.

“I knew it was you…The streets…” Edith cried.

“You need to rest.” He instructed as his other hand rested in front of her clothed belly. She nodded and drifted up the stairs to her bedroom.

Once she was in her bedroom, she sat down on her bed and unlaced her shoes. She let the fall of her feet onto the the floor before laying back on the pillows, turning onto her side.

Edith felt Thomas’ warm presence again. He was cuddled up close behind her, a weight leaning around her torso, pressed against her stomach that she could only imagine was his arm.

“You’re not going mad.” He reassured her.

“You can read my thoughts now?” Edith teased.

“No,” Thomas made a playful sigh, “But if I had known my wife would be nagging me from beyond the grave, I would have passed on to where ever it is I’m supposed to go from here.”

“Oh, you suddenly find humor in the afterlife as well?” She turned to face the resemblance of him, "I’m glad to see it. You were awfully dull when you were alive.“

They shared a laugh that was cut short by the sharp truth of her husband’s words. Edith couldn’t comprehend losing him again. The first time was painful enough - as if Lucille herself had stabbed her through the heart as well. Yes, she still had Thomas, part of him at least, but Lucille did severe the boundaries of their relationship for what felt like an eternity.

“I’ll never leave your side, Edith.” Thomas whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Sleep,” He soothed and she did.


End file.
